Emma and Luke Are Totally Together

by Rachel Arnett

  “Okay, okay,” says Luke, pulling himself up. “To be continued, Kenneth?”

  “To be continued,” agrees Kenneth. He holds up his palm. “I solemnly swear to not make any moves while you’re gone.”

  Since Mom and Dad have the minivan, I call us a cab. When it shows up, I run outside and tell the driver where we’re headed, then ask him to not mention our destination while we’re driving. Then I run back inside, yell out to Luke that the cab’s here, and wait impatiently for him to join me.

  “Jeez,” says Luke. “What’s the huge rush?”

  “Less talking, more walking,” I say, tugging his arm. “Come on.”

  When we get into the cab, the driver winks at me ridiculously in the rear view mirror, then brings us to our destination: a beach on the west side of the island. When we get out, Luke gives me a look that says, This is it? A beach? But when we walk further, going down a small path that spits out into a more secluded area, the real star attraction becomes evident. There, scattered across the beach, are tons of beautiful sea turtles.

  “Whoa,” says Luke.

  “I know,” I say. “Right?”

  Luke grins at me. “How’d you find out about this place?”

  “Oh, you know. A little thing called the internet.”

  “There goes one,” he says. We watch as one of the turtles disappears into the ocean. “We aren’t scaring them off, are we?”

  “No. They only hang out on the beach certain times of day.”

  “Ah,” says Luke. “Okay. Now all the rushing to get here makes sense.”

  “Well, yeah,” I say. “What, you think I’d act that crazy for no reason?”

  Luke shrugs, and I punch him playfully in the shoulder.

  As the rest of the turtles gradually leave, Luke and I sit on a large flat rock nearby and watch them go. It’s a nice moment to share. It’s actually pretty romantic. I lean my head on his shoulder and thread my fingers through his. He rubs the pad of his thumb over my skin, the kind of touch that spreads warmth through my whole body.

  A few minutes later, the peaceful silence is ruined by the chime of Luke’s cell phone. I keep my head on his shoulder, though, as he uses his free hand to dig his phone out of his pocket.

  “Anything important?” I ask.

  “Nah,” he says.

  His phone chimes again.

  “Um, not to be that annoying person,” I say. “But would you mind muting your phone?”

  Less than a minute later, there’s another chime. I lift my head off his shoulder.

  “Some of the rugby guys are texting,” says Luke, swiping his screen. “Sorry.”

  “Just put your phone on silent.”

  “I thought I did.”

  “Well, obviously, you didn’t.”

  Luke screws up his face. “Don’t get so upset. It was a mistake.”

  His phone doesn’t chime again after that. But I continue to feel irritated. The outing feels ruined.

  I try to concentrate on the turtles. There’s only a few left on the beach now. In silence, Luke and I watch the remaining ones slowly make their way to the water.

  “Hey,” says Luke, nudging me gently. “Thanks for bringing me out here.”

  I shrug. “I mean, I know it’s no helicopter ride.”

  “Are you kidding? This is just as cool.”

  “Well, I’m glad we caught them,” I say.

  “Me, too,” he says. “Hey, are we all good?”

  I look at him. I can’t resist his earnest eyes. I nod. “Yeah. We’re good.”

  A speck of water lands on my nose, and then another on my cheek. It’s beginning to rain. Within minutes, the light sprinkle grows to a constant fall of fat little raindrops.

  We call for a cab, but I can already tell that unless one is super close by, we’re going to be soaked by the time it picks us up. Then I remember the compact umbrella that Paige lent me. I dig through my bag and pull it out. With one click, the tiny thing expands above our heads.

  “Look at you,” says Luke.

  “It’s Paige’s, actually,” I say. “I thought she was nuts for lending it to me, but…well…here we are.”

  “Here we are,” says Luke, and kisses me as the raindrops drum overhead.

  * * *

  “So, Emma,” says Catherine. “Tell us more about you and Luke.”

  It’s later in the day and I’m on the back patio at the house with Mom and Catherine. The guys are all doing other things—Luke and Kenneth have resumed their board game, Dad is taking a nap, and Garrett is on his phone.

  “What do you want to know?” I ask.

  Catherine sips her iced tea. She has flame red lipstick on today. “How serious are you guys?”

  I hesitate. I think about my conversation with Luke back at the airport, when we agreed that when it came to our fake relationship, we were in love. But it feels too weird to say now that real feelings are involved.

  “We’re pretty serious,” I say.

  “And you’ve been seeing each other for how long again?” asks Catherine.

  “Um…I mean, it’s only been a few weeks. But it feels like it’s been a lot longer than that.”

  “Wow,” says Catherine, disapprovingly. “Serious so soon. I know you haven’t have a boyfriend in a long time, so you’re probably falling for this guy extra hard. But be careful.”

  “I’m fine, thanks,” I say.

  “It’s good that you’re dating, Emma,” says Mom. “You should have all the fun you can.”

  “Right, but…you like Luke, don’t you, Mom?”

  “I do,” she says. “Catherine’s right, though. There’s no reason to rush things.”

  “I’m not trying to rush things,” I say. “It’s just how it is.”

  Mom examines her arm. “Would you mind passing me the sunscreen, Emma?”

  I grab the bottle. “Hold out your arm. I’ll squeeze some out.”

  She does as I suggest. But when I squeeze the bottle, I accidentally cover her arm in a huge glob.

  “Sorry,” I say. “Jeez. Here, let me—”

  I try to suck some of it back into the bottle, but more comes out.

  “It’s fine,” says Mom.

  “You know,” says Catherine, “one of Kenneth’s coworkers recently moved up north.”

  “Um, okay,” I say. I snap the cap back on the sunscreen and toss it aside.

  “The two of you should meet,” says Catherine.

  “What? Why? I’m in a relationship.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve only been seeing Luke for a few weeks.”

  I exhale. I should have expected this. Even when I bring a boyfriend on vacation, they still find a way to dismiss it. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “Of course,” says Mom. She’s finally finished rubbing the sunscreen into her arm. “How’s work going?”

  “It’s fine,” I say.

  “Nothing new?” asks Mom.

  I don’t really want to talk about it, but I don’t want the conversation to return to my love life, either. “Well…there might be a managerial position opening up.”

  “That’s a big role to step into, being a manager,” says Catherine.

  “Yeah,” I say stiffly. “I know.”

  “I know the raise probably seems appealing, but it would be a lot of—”

  “Could you stop?” I snap.

  Nobody says anything for a few seconds.

  Then Catherine says, “Excuse me?”

  Part of me wants to get up and leave. To walk away from this conversation. To flee. But the part of me that’s fed up is more determined. I’ve finally had enough.

  I look my sister in the eye and say, “Stop treating me like a child. Stop picking apart everything about my life.”

  “What are you talking about?” says Catherine.

  “Oh, come on. You just did it. You just dismissed my relationship with Luke. And you act like I don’t realize that a promotion would mean more responsibility. Just because you’re
older, and married, and you’re out saving the planet every day, you think you’re entitled to talk to me like that, but—”

  “It’s not about feeling entitled,” says Catherine. “I’m looking out for you.”

  “Well, I don’t need looking out for.”

  “Okay, then,” says Catherine. She rolls her eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind for the future.”

  “Girls,” says Mom. “Please. Let’s calm down.”

  “You know,” says Catherine, ignoring Mom, “if you acted more mindfully, Emma, I wouldn’t feel the need to say anything.”

  I laugh dryly. “Right.”

  “You’re always late when we have a family Skype call. And you invited a guy you’ve only known for a few weeks along on our vacation without even asking if the rest of us were cool with it. But you know what really irks me? You couldn’t even be bothered to help me plan this trip.”

  “Are you serious?” I say. “You didn’t give me a chance to.”

  “I texted you numerous times!”

  “Yeah, after you’d already done the research or booked things.”

  “You could have done it, too, Emma,” says Catherine. “You could have taken the initiative.”

  “And step on your toes? No thanks. Then you would have just been upset about that.”

  “No. Not true.”

  “Admit it,” I say. “No matter what I do, you’ll find something wrong with it. It’s always been that way. You’re perfect, and I’m flawed. Well, you don’t have to constantly remind me of it. Trust me, I’m well aware. As are Mom and Dad.”

  Catherine frowns. She opens her mouth, then closes it. Mom shakes her head.

  “Honey,” says Mom. “Nobody’s perfect.”

  “Some people sure act like they are,” I say.

  Behind us, the door to the patio slides opens.

  “Iced tea incoming,” says Kenneth, carrying a large pitcher. He refills our glasses as we sit in silence. “Can I bring you ladies anything else?”

  “We’re fine,” says Catherine.

  “Thank you, Kenneth,” says Mom. “But I think it’s about time we head inside and cool off, anyway.”

  17

  I sit as far away as possible from Catherine that night at dinner—which, along with some mahi-mahi that Mom runs out to get from the store, consists of eating up the hodgepodge of food we’ve picked up over the last several days. After we finish eating, I help clean up the dishes, then head upstairs to go to bed. I’m not exactly in the mood to socialize anymore, and our flight is early the next morning.

  I’m almost to the bedroom when I hear Catherine say my name. I turn around and see her coming up the stairs behind me.

  “Hey, Emma?” she says tentatively. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  My body tenses. I really don’t want to get into a fight with her again.

  “What is it?” I say.

  “About earlier…I guess I didn’t realize how harsh I’ve been.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” I say.

  “Well, whether or not you believe it, it’s true. And I’m sorry. I’m going to try to change.”

  Our eyes meet. She looks sincere. But it’s hard to let everything go just like that.

  “I appreciate you saying that, Catherine, but…I mean, actions speak louder than words.”

  Catherine nods. “Fair enough.”

  Silence hangs between us.

  “Look, I won’t bring it up again after this. But please, Emma, be careful with Luke. You don’t know him very well. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that,” I say.

  “I do, though, Emma. Because it’s happened to me. I don’t think I ever told you about this, but there was this guy I dated before I met Kenneth, someone I fell for really fast. We even talked about getting married, which was absolutely crazy in hindsight. Let’s just say that he didn’t end up being as trustworthy as I thought. And I don’t want you to make the type of mistake that I almost did.”

  I wish right then that I could explain everything to Catherine. That I could tell her the whole truth. But I can’t, and I don’t. I just nod.

  “Like I said, I’m going to try to change,” says Catherine.

  “Okay,” I say. “Thanks.”

  “Well, goodnight.”

  “Goodnight,” I say.

  With softened feelings, I watch her head back downstairs.

  In our bedroom, I find Luke lying on top of the covers, scrolling through his phone. He glances over at me and smiles. Ugh. That smile. How is he so attractive all the time?

  “I’ve got some good memes to show you,” he says.

  “Yeah?” I say. “Good. I need a laugh.” I haven’t told him about my argument with Catherine, but I don’t feel like getting into it yet. All I want to do right now is relax.

  I settle into bed beside him, snuggling up against his shoulder. Luke holds the phone so that both of us have a good view of the screen. As he scrolls through the memes—of cats and crazed kids and celebrities—we laugh at the best ones. I’m touched that he knows exactly what I need.

  Luke is scrolling down again when a notification pops up on his screen. Hey, hottie! You’ve received a new Heartthrob message! Swipe to read.

  Almost instantly, Luke dismisses the notification.

  “Uh,” I say. “What was that?”

  “Nothing,” he says.

  My heart lurches in my chest. “Was that from a dating app?”

  “I mean, yeah. But it’s nothing.”

  I think back to this morning on the beach, when his phone kept going off. I think of all the other times he’s been on it, too, this trip. I feel like such a fool.

  I sit up in bed and look at him.

  “You’ve been using it this whole time,” I say.

  “I mean, if someone messages me, I’m going to reply. What’s the big deal?”

  I stare at him in disbelief. Does he really not understand why I would care? This is no longer just some stupid arrangement. This is…okay, I don’t know what it is. But I do know that I hate the fact that he’s been messaging other women.

  “Hey, come on,” says Luke, setting down his phone, “we never said that using a dating app was off-limits. We only agreed that we wouldn’t go out on any dates with anyone else. Remember?”

  “We slept together,” I say.

  “We did,” Luke says slowly. “But…you don’t think we’re in a real relationship now, do you?”

  “No,” I say. “But, Luke, things have changed. You can’t deny that.”

  “I’m not denying it. But this isn’t a real relationship. And so you can’t get pissed at me for using some stupid dating app.”

  “You were getting messages when we were at the beach. You were looking at them.”

  “What? No. I told you, those were texts from the rugby guys.” He picks his phone up and unlocks the screen. “Here, you want to read the texts?”

  “No.”

  “Because you can. I don’t care. I’ll even show you the dating app.”

  “Stop. I don’t want to see it.”

  “I’m not trying to hide anything from you, Emma.”

  I lean back against the headboard. I don’t say anything for a while. I’m both frustrated with him and frustrated with myself. Most of all, I’m frustrated with this gray area that we’ve found ourselves in. “So, what, we sleep together in Hawaii and that’s it? After we get home, we’re going to pretend like it never happened?”

  “Whoa. I never said that.”

  “That’s what you’re acting like, though.”

  “You’re reading too much into things.”

  “Well then talk to me, Luke. Because it’s pretty frustrating to try to guess how you’re feeling.”

  “Look,” says Luke. “I’ve had a lot of fun with you here. But I honestly haven’t thought about what’s going to happen when we get back home. I really haven’t.”

  More silence pa
sses. Outside, a light breeze whispers through the palm trees.

  Luke shifts in the bed. He smiles cautiously. I guess he’s trying to lighten the mood. “Are you in love with me or something, Armstrong?”

  “Um, no?” I say.

  “You sure? Because I wasn’t going to say anything. But I’ve seen the way you always sneak glances at me at work.”

  “Sneak glances at you? I don’t sneak glances at you.”

  “Deny it all you want, but I’ve seen it. I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

  I don’t have a clue what he’s talking about. But it takes me only a few seconds to realize his mistake. “Oh. Um, no, Luke. Sorry to burst your bubble, but it’s not you I’ve been looking at. It’s Alex.”

  “Alex?” says Luke. The smile drops off his face. “Alex…Clarke?”

  “What other Alex is there?” I say. “Yes. Alex Clarke.”

  “Oh.” Luke rubs the back of his neck. “So, you’re in love with him?”

  “What? No. Why would you think that?”

  “Like I said. All the lovelorn looks at work.”

  I roll my eyes. “Now you’re the one reading too much into things.”

  “I’m just saying what I saw.”

  “Well, to put the record straight, I’m not in love with him. I’m not in love with anyone. Not even close.”

  “Okay. Got it.”

  “Especially not you,” I say.

  It’s not that I intend to say something so hurtful. It just comes out. It’s so stupid, but in that moment, it feels necessary to say something so awful in order to not get my own feelings hurt.

  “Wow,” says Luke. “Okay. Well…glad you got that off your chest.”

  I feel like crying. I feel like ripping something up. But all I can do is sit there in silence, and Luke does the same. Eventually, I get out of bed, grab my sleeping clothes, and leave to go change and brush my teeth. By the time I get back, Luke is asleep, turned toward the other side of the bed.

  * * *

  In the morning, knowing that we’re all going to be fighting for the bathroom before we leave, I get up before everyone else to take a shower. I grab a change of clothes from my bag, quietly pad down the hall to the bathroom, and hang my bath towel near the shower before stepping in. After the argument last night with Luke, the hot water feels extra therapeutic on my skin. I vigorously knead shampoo into my hair and slather my body with soap.